A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

Spice 1

"Dusted ‘n’ Disgusted"

[Verse 1: E-40 & Richie Rich]
I'm really not all that sure about when things is finna mature
So lemme find me a n*gga with a grip
And hit his ass quick with one of them licks
What's the definition of a lick?
Takin' a n*gga's sh*t (ayy, put that on somethin')
I put that on The Click, The Click
Back to f*ckin' work, one of the homies just got dusted
Time to do some dirt, uh, I never trusted them bustas
Shot him in the shirt, dead on arrival
Now the town is funkin', it's called survival
What y'all wanna do? They got us skunked
(Well if, uh, we can just, uh—)
If it was a fifth, we'll all be drunk
I'm heated, them n*ggas cheated, played me false
We had a meetin', sh*t 'posed to been squashed
I noticed one killer on the double dribble and set him up, y'all
She likes the Monie in the Middle, play tetherball
Thick-ass b*tch, high yellow city-slicker
Scarecrow creepin' Southern b*tches, a.k.a. Posie pus*yfictitious

[Verse 2: Spice 1]
n*gga been holdin' guts
But sh*t on hisself and a funky bill
Pullin' out bills, frontin' on material sh*t
That's when I get to killin' sh*t (killin' sh*t)
And settin' him up and havin him catchin' a couple of slugs
Slu–uh–slu–uh–slugs
Tryna f*ck with savage thug
Pistol pop in they ass
See, n*ggas be gettin' this twisted
It's that b*tch that killed ya
Took all your money, peeled ya
Seven n*ggas bust in the room with AKs
While a n*gga be puttin' on his jimmy
All of a sudden they shoot up your nutsack
Before you can hit the broccoli
See money-a-made that n*gga, that n*gga didn't make that money
Left them n*ggas jacked up, and the b*tch she macked him
He's a busta, punk ass n*gga, don't know the streets
That's why that n*gga naked layin' dead in between some bloody sheets
It's just a part of the game he didn't feel
b*tches will kill, f*ck a n*gga, out his last d-uh dollar bill
You don't know that ho, mayne, that b*tch can't be trusted
Dusted and di-motherf*ckin'-sgusted

[Chorus: E-40 + (Suga T & Levitti)]
(Some cold hearted sh*t)
Back to f*ckin' work, one of the homies jus got dusted
What y'all wanna do; what ya'll wanna do?
(Cold hearted b*tches)
Back to f*ckin' work, one of the homies just got dusted
What y'all wanna do? I never trusted them bustas
(Some cold hearted sh*t)
Back to f*ckin' work, one of the homies jus got dusted
I never trusted them bustas
(And it's them cold hearted n*gga)
Back to f*ckin' work, one of the homies just got dusted
Dusted and disgusted

[Verse 3: E-40]
Let's let off some 2O3s on the other side of t-uh-town
Draw the attention on the other s-uh-side of town (other side of town)
And wait for the po-po shift to change, ghetto shootin' range
Revenge on the r-uh-rebound, war games
Droughts, ouch, lost clientele but I will prevail
By sellin' the broccoli dank instead of the crack cocaine trumps
That steal narcotics
When it's funkin' season, b*tches be the reason
Why the smoke be coming up out the chop, with my n*gga 'Pac

[Verse 4: 2Pac]
Dear God, can you forgive me? My future's lookin' sick
I'm in my rag hittin' switches, I'm suspicious of these b*tches
I keep on, calllin', but ain't nobody pickin' up
I think she's stallin', this evil b*tch is tryin' to set me up
Came all alone—if it's on, then it's on
Bust my motherf*ckin' chrome, on these jealous n*ggas' dome
It's a war zone (war zone) but I'm a man, so with gun in hand
I'm on my way to see this ho', you know the f*ckin' plan
Can't understand, but the things ain't the same
You could die over these b*tches if you slippin' in the game
n*ggas gangbang, but b*tches gangbang too
Give up that good thang, n*gga put that pistol to your brain
If you a smart figure, don't have no love in your heart, n*gga
Any complications, pull the trigger
Dusted and disgusted, b*tches can't be trusted, you know the rules
They underhanded, she planned it, you f*ckin' fool

[Interlude]
(Richie Rich: These hoes out here tryin' to hold n*ggas hostage
So a n*gga get his muthaf*ckin' balls involved)
(2Pac: Things happen when you turn these b*tches upside down
What's gonna happen?)
(Richie Rich: Uhh, three and a half dollars or probably fo' will fall out a b*tch pocket)
(Mac Mall: Yeah, mayne, them hoes hella stupid
They f*ck with mo' MC's than Jack the Rapper)
(E-40: What you say, Mall?
Ay, f*ck them sheisty ass bootches, n*gga)

[Verse 5: Mac Mall]
The California lifestyle that I live
Where the b*tches is crooked and n*ggas just don't give
A flyin' f*ck, so I stay stuck, smokin' on a Taylor
Bay Area player, tryna have sh*t major
And a b*tch won't save ya
So I ain't playin' Captain Save-a-Ho
I mob up in ya like a Brougham and then I'm gone
I'm like Sylvester Stallone, every day is like a Cliffhanger
Action packed, I let the mini-mac sting ya

[Verse 6: Spice 1]
Them hoes jacked that ass
n*gga woulda got smokin' on that hash
Can't have my cash, better go and take your n*gga stash
'Cause he's a busta, n*ggas with clusters, slippin' and sh*t
Better jack that n*gga 'fore I jack his ass, b*tch
Never was no love for the mark-ass, the lo pink (the lo pink)
He let them bootsee b*tches gank

[Verse 7: E-40]
Can't let them bootsee b*tches gank that ass
Better hide your cash and check her fast
Pump your brakes, n*gga; slow your roll, don't go too fast
'Cause bulletproof ain't doin' no good no mo' no mo' no mo' no mo'
Now, n*ggas comin' up dead with they brains blew out on the f*ckin' floor
Damn, hollow points to face, Teflon, through the vest
Now r-uh-rest
Pull a plug on a flatline, no puh-ulse, one n*gga less
One n*gga less, from coast to coast, to the East to the West
Fresh in the flesh, them b*tches play the game of death
Look over your shoulder, watch your back, don't even trust it
I'm tryna told ya, end up dusted

[Chorus: E-40 + (Suga T & Levitti)]
(Some cold hearted sh*t)
Back to f*ckin' work, one of the homies just got dusted
What y'all wanna do; what y'all wanna do?
(Cold hearted b*tches)
Back to f*ckin' work, one of the homies just got dusted
What y'all wanna do? I never trusted them bustas
(It's some cold hearted sh*t)
Back to f*ckin' work, one of the homies just got dusted
I never trusted them bustas
(And it's them cold hearted n*gga)
Back to f*ckin' work, one of the homies just got dusted
Dusted and disgusted

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


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